


Interim

by peldarjoi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bajorans, Cardassian Occupation, Cardassians, F/M, Gen, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide, comfort women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peldarjoi/pseuds/peldarjoi
Summary: Dukat's obsession with Bajoran women was insatiable. Meru, Naprem, and later Nerys, but there were others. Like Pahra, she was 'his' in the short time between Meru and Naprem. He claimed to love them, but all he really wanted from these women was to help him maintain his claim that he loved and was loved by the Bajoran people. Pahra never succumbed to his phony charm and in return he showed her the monster he truly was.(I've always been fascinated by the parallel between Sisko and Dukat. Sisko was everything Dukat wanted to be to the Bajorans. He wanted to be their savior, to be loved by them and eventually worshiped by them. And somewhere deep in that twisted brain of his he really did think he was, even though he was absolutely the opposite. He was the Anti-emissary to Sisko's Emissary.)





	1. Chapter 1

Pahra applied makeup with a shaking hand. As a little girl she’d dreamed of a life where she could wear pretty clothes and make herself beautiful, but this was far from that fantasy.

It had only been a few days since she’d been taken away from her family and friends without even being given the chance to say good bye. She was told her family would be taken care of as a reward for her service, but she doubted the Cardassians would hold up their side. And it wasn’t as though she had a choice either, she’d seen others taken willingly or fighting, but the result was always the same: they never returned.

She dabbed makeup under her eyes to cover up the redness there. It had been made clear that any sign of noncompliance would result in being sent to ore processing. Women didn’t survive long there. Not because they were weaker than men, but because the low-level guards there had free use of them. She was better off willingly submitting to officers who displayed at least a pretense of civility.

She took a deep, calming breath to try to steady her hand while she painted liner around her eyes. There was no way out, she had to do this. Her eyes began to tear up again but she blinked the wetness away before it smudged the makeup again. It was only her body, after all, not her pagh. She smoothed her hair down over her shoulders. Bajorans usually wore their hair up in functional braids or buns, but Cardassians preferred it down.

Lastly, she traced her lips with color hoping at least they would be free of Cardassian touch and she turned away from the mirror, not wanting to see her own face anymore.

Her roommate, Naza, a veteran of this place, headed toward the door. “It’s almost time.” She said sympathetically.

Pahra walked slowly. Her stomach hurt, she prayed that she wouldn’t vomit and that she wouldn’t be chosen by anyone too horrible. Naza had told her which ones to avoid, but if they chose her, she had to go with them and obey their every sick desire.

She waited by the door with Naza, foolishly hoping they’d somehow not come for them, but too soon the door opened.


	2. Chapter 2

She’d been grabbed and fondled by probing Cardassian hands all evening. Passed from one to the other, clutching a bottle of kanar as though it could be some kind of weapon. Even if she’d had the courage to use it as such, she’d be executed immediately. Or worse, not.

A drunk Cardassian officer pinned her in the corner, groping her and pulling at her clothes. He slipped his hand up the split in her dress to the inside of her thigh, searching for the edge of her panties. She fought the panic rising inside her. This was going to happen, there was nothing she could do to stop it, so falling to pieces wouldn’t make anything any better. Still, she couldn’t help but try to squirm out of his grasp.

She was so intent on fighting him off that she didn’t see who had entered the room until he was right behind the one pawing at her. It was Gul Ducat himself. Pahra froze.

“Let her go.” Dukat said, pulling him away by the collar. “I said, let her go.”

“All I said to her was-”

“I don't care what you were saying. I don't like what you were doing. Now get away from her.” He shoved him away then turned to her. “Are you all right?”

She was too stunned to respond.

“Basso,” Dukat said behind him, “escort this woman back to her quarters and see that her privacy is respected.”

“She will not be disturbed.” Basso said with deference.

“I only hope you won't condemn us all for the boorish behavior of one man.”

The slimy Basso ushered her away while her mind was still reeling. Something was not right. She was grateful to be free of that Cardassian’s clutches, but that was what she’d been brought there for, why would the prefect treat her in such a respectful manor? A dread deeper than what she’d felt before settled into her stomach as she was whisked through the corridor.


	3. Chapter 3

Basso deposited her in the room with barely a word and left. Suddenly alone, Pahra tried to make sense of what had just happened. Basso had said something to her about being Dukat’s exclusive ‘guest.’ However civilized he thought that sounded, the meaning was clear. But she supposed it was better than being passed around from officer to officer, even if it was the hated prefect himself.

She turned slowly to take in the room around her. It was clear that it had been decorated by a Bajoran woman. Probably an artist based on the aesthetics. Who had lived in these quarters before? And what had happened to her? She had a sick feeling she knew the answer to both of those questions, and that the same fate awaited her some day when she fell out of his favor.

Anything personal had been removed, but she could practically feel her presence. Did the poor woman’s family even know what had become of her? Did they receive the promised care and would hers? She feared she’d never know.

Unsure where Dukat had gone and when he would come for her, she sat down on the couch and hugged her knees to her chest.


	4. Chapter 4

She’d found her way to the bed and slept fitfully. Every noise she heard woke her thinking that he was coming in to have his way with her. But she’d been left completely alone.

Finally giving up on sleep, she began exploring her rooms. She found an array of beautiful and modest clothes in the closet, nothing like what she’d been forced to wear the previous evening. The one she took out to try on fit her perfectly, making her wonder how they’d known her size. Had she been selected by Dukat just far enough ahead of time to tailor these clothes? Or maybe she’d even been selected when she was still living in her village and had been singled out from the start.

That last thought sent chills down her spine.

On one side of the main room, she found a small stand of books. As she read the titles, she didn’t recognize any of them. Maybe she’d actually have a chance to read them. Back home, there were very few books and those they had were carefully guarded. Bajorans from her generation and younger weren’t even supposed to have been taught to read. What was the use when all they could grow up to be were laborers or comfort women?

Next to the book case was a wide table with a collection of art supplies. All kinds: paints, charcoals, pencils, pastels. All new, too, and perfectly arranged, ready for anything she might wish to do. Along the rest of that wall were similar sets of supplies for almost any hobby she might chose.

The clothes, these quarters, his behavior last night, all suggested that he wanted to create a fantasy that she’d happily and willingly become his concubine. Her throat tightened, but she fought the panic back down.

There was no use sitting around doing nothing all day waiting for him to show up, so she returned to the books, chose one that wasn’t too thick and opened it up, hoping to bury herself in the contents.


	5. Chapter 5

The book proved to be more engaging than she’d anticipated and she found that the entire day had disappeared between its pages. She’d been so completely absorbed in the fantasy world that she’d entirely forgotten where she was and why she was there.

The mechanical sound of the door startled her out of the temporary escape and it took a second or two to bring her mind back into the present. By the time she remembered where she was, Gul Dukat was standing in the doorway facing her.

Her heart raced, her stomach twisted, she shrunk away from him.

His attempt at a reassuring smile did nothing to comfort her. And what was he holding behind his back?

“I thought you would appreciate a little time on your own before I visited.” He began and brought a bouquet of wild flowers out from behind his back.

She could only stare at him mutely. By Cardassian law, she belonged to him. She could not refuse any request, no matter how vile or humiliating. He could do anything to her and have her executed simply for refusing. Yet here he was acting as though he would woo her? As though she hadn’t been abducted from her home and forced into this life of slavery?

After holding the flowers out for long enough that it was clear she wasn’t going to accept them, he took a step back and glanced around the room as though looking for something. “There must be a vase around here somewhere.” He said, unconcerned by her reaction.

She watched him poke around the room in search of the item.

“Despite what you may have heard, I'm a fair man, Pahra. You have nothing to fear from me. Whatever purpose you think you’ve been brought here for, you can rest assured I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Ah!” He exclaimed and reached for the vase on a shelf. “I’m simply in need of some company.” He said as he ordered the replicator to fill the vase with water then busied himself arranging the flowers. “It’s inappropriate for someone in my position to socialize with my subordinates and there’s no one here of equal rank for me to relax with.”

Finally, he brought the badly arranged flowers to the coffee table in front of her and sat down on the other side of the couch with a sigh.

Her heart continued to pound as she instinctively leaned away from him. Just being so close to _him_ made her skin crawl as though his hands were already on her. She gripped the book that was still in her hands to keep them from shaking.

He continued casually as though she hadn’t reacted in such a way. “It may surprise you to hear this, but my position is a lonely one. I'm isolated from the people who live under my protection. I require someone to talk with. In short, a friend.”

She struggled to keep her expression neutral despite the bile churning in her stomach.

He sighed with frustration that he hadn’t been able to immediately charm her into submission. “I want you to believe me that I _want_ to be able to make things better for your people. I really do what what’s best for them.”

With panic, she found herself speaking before she could stop herself. “You think strip-mining our planet and being worked to death is what’s best for us?” She snapped and expected him to call his guards to immediately have her taken away for punishment.

He didn’t even wince at her words, only said condescendingly, “I see we have a long way to go.” He made a show of standing up with nonchalance, “I had hoped to unwind with some pleasant conversation this evening, but if it will help prove my intentions to you, I’ll leave you alone.” He started to saunter toward the door but stopped and turned and added as an afterthought, “Please feel free to make use of anything in the room it’s all here for your enjoyment, and if there’s anything you want that you don’t see, just ask Basso.”

With that he left her alone, not quite believing that he hadn’t laid a hand on her or even raised his voice. If he was determined to prove to her that his intentions were good, maybe she’d make it through this alive after all.


	6. Chapter 6

She’d been informed that she was free to take meals any time she liked with the exception of dinner. She was to be available to eat dinner with Dukat any evening he wished. So, the following day, she waited as the minutes ticked by at roughly the proper time, desperately hoping he wouldn’t choose to dine with her. She’d rather go hungry than sit with that man and pretend to be pleasant.

She was so nervous her hands were ice cold. Would this be the night she would have to yield herself to him? It wasn’t just about willingly allowing her body to be violated by one of her oppressors, that was bad enough, but _this_ man. The one who oversaw all of her people’s suffering. The one who sent Bajorans to die in the mines or ore processing. The man who ordered the slaughter of entire villages thought to be aiding Resistance cells. The man who had probably ordered she and the other women to be abducted from their homes to live as whores.

She realized nearly an hour had passed while she sat there and worried about things she couldn’t change. This was her life now and she would have to accept that. If he wanted her and wanted to pretend it was some kind of romance, there was nothing, nothing she could do about it any more than the ore processors could do to save themselves. They were all slaves; the only difference was geography.

Just about the time she was thinking he wouldn’t come, the door slid open and he stepped inside. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get away. You must be famished.” He said as an exaggerated apology.

_That’s okay, I’m used to it._ She nearly said the snide comment out loud but cut herself off first.

He walked casually to the replicator. “What would you like?”

She couldn’t seem to come up with anything, she’d completely lost her appetite at the sight of him.

“Can’t quite make a decision?” He continued to pretend this was all mutual. “You probably haven’t been exposed to the finer selections of Bajoran cuisine. Shall I choose for you?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to the replicator and scrolled through the options while he unfastened the armored portion of his uniform and slid it off. She was surprised at how lanky he was underneath. Without it, he seemed a lot less intimidating. But she reminded herself that he could easily overpower her if she put up a fight, and even if not, he could order her execution in an instant.

“Have you ever had _kachor_ mushrooms?”

She shook her head silently. Those were very rare and expensive. There was no way anyone in her little town would have ever encountered them.

“You’re in for a treat, then.” He said with a smile that would have seemed genuine in a different situation. “Two orders of _Hofiasea_.”

A moment later he held two plates full of food and set them down across from each other on the table next to the replicator.

She willed herself to stand up and join him at the table, placing her hands on either side of the place setting.

Before she could pull away, he reached across and took her hand in his with surprising gentleness. “You’re trembling.” He said with concern.

“I’m… a little nervous.” She said softly.

He sighed deeply. “As I said before, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wish to. I only want someone to-”

“-talk to. I remember.”

“I can see it will take time for me to earn your trust, but I intend to.” He said with a squeeze of his hand, then began digging into his food.


	7. Chapter 7

More days passed with the same routine. During the day she was left to herself in her quarters to do whatever she pleased. She read some of the books, she painted a picture, badly, tried out some of the musical instruments and experimented with some of the other supplies left there for her. Basso would check in once every day to see if there was anything she needed. Her freedom was the only thing she was denied. And Dukat would show up for dinner every night. She never had contact with anyone else.

This evening she sat on the couch with her legs tucked under her while he talked about his day. She’d been baffled by the casualness with which he spoke about the Occupation. As though the subjection and extermination of her people was simply a matter of ordinary business. He tried to spin it so that he appeared to be some kind of savior and protector. It might have fooled an outsider who hadn’t grown up under Cardassian rule, but she knew better.

He paced the room as he spoke, seemingly unaware that she’d hardly said a word the entire evening, but he talked enough for the both of them.

She’d been here over two weeks without him laying a hand on her except for occasionally holding her hand in his. How long she’d be allowed to avoid taking him to her bed, she wasn’t sure. She kept expecting his patience to wear out. And what would happen when it did? Would he dismiss her and send her back to the other comfort women? To ore processing? Or would he force the matter?

His monolog stopped abruptly, drawing her out of her panicked thoughts. She turned to see him pick up a drawing she’d done earlier that day. ‘Drawing’ was a generous term for it, it was not much more than some abstract shapes and colors she’d done using pastels.

“This is lovely!” He exclaimed.

“I was just playing around with some colors.” She said, blushing unintentionally.

“Nonsense, it’s beautiful. I’ll have Basso frame it.” He said enthusiastically.

“That’s not necessary.” She said, but he’d already made up his mind.

He took a couple of steps toward her and gently lifted her hand to his lips. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.” With that, he left, carefully rolling her so-called artwork into a tube to protect it.


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Dukat cautioned. “You’ll leave your _Khaissot_ piece open, and if I take it, you’ll have lost in four moves.”

He’d been attempting to teach her Kotra for the last two hours. She still had no clue what she was doing. This game that seemed so simple to him was completely baffling to her. She came to the conclusion that one must think like a Cardassian to understand it, and that was something she’d never allow herself to do.

“But if I make this move, I can have your _Amloc_ surrounded.” She said.

“True, but not before I corner yours.” He picked up the piece she’d just moved and placed it back where it had been. “What you want to do,” he said thoughtfully, “is to sacrifice your _Koel_ here, then you’ll be in position to strike in another two moves.” He pointed out the strategy that would result in him losing the game.

As she followed his suggestion, she suddenly saw an opening he could use to trap her most valuable piece.

It was his turn. He pondered the pieces on the board. Passed his hand over several pieces, including the one that would quickly end the game in his favor, but he picked up another piece and moved it to a position that would do nothing.

Two more moves and she had his _Amloc_ in her hand, earning her the win. “You let me win.”

“What do you mean?” He feigned innocence.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t see this?” She made the series of moves he’d chosen to pass up.

He made a thoughtful sound to play up the innocent role. “Would you like to play again?” He asked, beginning to reset the gameboard.

“Actually, I’m a little tired after trying to understand this game.”

“Ah, of course. I’ll let you get to bed.” He finished setting the pieces in their proper places for the next time they played. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed her hand as he did every evening and left.

It had been almost three weeks since she’d been brought here. He’d spent nearly every evening with her. At first he’d done all of the talking while she cowered as far away from him as she could get. But in all those visits, he’d never spoken harshly to her, never threatened her or even pressured her. When she wanted him to leave, all she had to do was say so and he would graciously leave.

Sitting down on the couch, she saw a game piece that had fallen on the floor while he had been quickly resetting the game. She picked it up and sat back into the couch.

She’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he’d kept his word all this time. If all he wanted was sex, he could get that from any of the other comfort women. Maybe he really did just want company.

She turned the gold Kotra piece over in her hand and tried to remind herself of the monster every Bajoran knew him to be, but all she knew for sure was that things could be worse for her… a lot worse.

She was just about to set the game piece back down on the table when it slipped out of her hand and slid off of her lap into the crack between the cushion and the arm of the couch. She turned around and slipped her hand into the space to dig it out, only managing to push it farther in.

Just when she had her fingertips around the game piece, they brushed against something papery. She pulled the piece out and held it in her other hand before going back in to find out what it was. The piece of paper crumpled as she tried to grasp it, but she finally managed to pull it out.

It was a short strip of paper that looked like it had been torn from a book. Handwritten on it in Bajoran was the message:

_"Don’t let him in. - KM"_

She stared at the note with her heart pounding. _Don’t let him in. Don’t let him in. Him. Dukat. Don’t let Dukat in._

Who else could a note in this room be talking about? It hit her like a sack of grain in the chest. Whoever this KM was was warning her not to let Dukat worm his way inside her head. Which is exactly what he’d done. In only a few short weeks, she’d been ready to forsake her people and believe his lies. His LIES.

She’d actually enjoyed playing a game with the monster who probably had spent the day condemning her kinsmen to death. She blinked, searching her memory for how this could have happened. She’d started out promising herself she’d never give in to him and there she was actually smiling and joking with him, enjoying his company like some kind of _collaborator_.

She felt sick.

With her hands shaking, she tucked the note back where she’d found it. Prophets only knew what he’d do if he saw it.

She began to think maybe she would have been better off with the other comfort women after all. At least they only had to give up their bodies, their minds were safely locked away. But her… he would take her mind, her body and her pagh. Already she had seen how quickly and masterfully he could manipulate her. No matter how hard she tried, she was sure now that he would wear her down.


	9. Chapter 9

Pahra never knew for sure what days he’d come to her quarters, he just showed up. She hoped this would be one of those days where he didn’t come at all. After a sleepless night, she’d sat, brooding over the note, in one chair all day long. The chair where she could stare incessantly at the crevice where she’d found it.

Really, the advice on the note was useless to her. She couldn’t do a single thing to alter her situation. He would either wear her down or… she was sure he wouldn’t put up with her resistance to his supposed charm for much longer. Then what? None of the options were good ones.

Only minutes after she knew his shift ended, the doors opened and he strutted in. “How are you doing this evening, Pahra?”

He didn’t seem to notice her lack of answer, only stepped over to the replicator to order two plates of some kind of Cardassian food that didn’t interest her. Once he had set the plates down on the table in front of two chairs next to each other, he removed the rubberized armor piece of his uniform and hung it over the back of another chair.

“Come, eat.” He summoned her, waiting with pretended gallantry.

“I’m not hungry.” She said and remained where she was.

“That’s something I rarely hear a Bajoran say.” He with amusement.

The idea that he could joke about such a thing turned her stomach even more.

“Pahra, come on.” He pleaded, elongating her name.

She didn’t budge.

“Now!” He shouted so sharply that she jumped.

She finally complied even as her heart raced and she sat down in the chair he pulled out for her.

He sat next to her and began eating as though everything were fine and they were a normal couple having dinner together after a long day.

She only stared at the food in front of her. She had to know something. KM. “Who lived here before me?” She asked softly.

He stopped with his fork half way to his mouth and set it back down. The silence stretched out between them while she waited for his reply wondering if she had overstepped. “Her name was Meru.” He said, finally.

KM.

“She was my companion for seven years.” He said with a sadness that she couldn’t tell was genuine or not.

“What happened to her?” She pressed, gaining courage from his reply.

“She died.” He said simply, then added, “From fostossa. A few months ago.”

A pang of sadness hit her heart at the confirmation that the other woman, a sister of sorts, was dead. But she knew there was no way she died of the fostossa virus. Fostossa wasn’t on the station or everybody would know about it. No, the prefect’s concubine does not just get fostossa on a virus-free space station. And if she’d really had the virus somehow, everything in these quarters would have been vaporized and replaced. There would have been no note for her to find.

He stared at her, misinterpreting her unease. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re just a replacement for her. I want you and I to have a completely new and different relationship.” He reached to take her hand but she slid it away.

“Pahra.” He hooked a finger around her chin to turn her face toward his but she refused. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

Her mind reeled. She was on dangerous ground. Every shred of self-preservation told her to turn to him with a smile. Apologize for her mood and explain it away. But the sick twist in her stomach wouldn’t allow it.

_Don’t let him in._

“Pahra.” He said again with a dangerous edge creeping into his voice.

She couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes, but she could feel the change in mood. Furry radiated from him. He reached out again and grasped her wrist tightly, pulling her closer to him.

“I have had enough of your resistance.” He seethed. “I have given you everything you could possibly want.”

“Go on and believe that I want this. That I somehow choose to be here with you, but it will never be true.” She hissed and immediately regretted it.

She tried to pull away but he twisted her arm to pull her closer, squeezing so tight it hurt. Panic seized her mind and all she could think was to get away from the savage look in his eyes.

She’d gone too far.

Desperate to get out of his clutches, she stood and tried again to pull away but he yanked her back down into the chair. Instead of sitting, she stumbled against the back of the chair and tipped it over. As she fell, she grabbed for the edge of the table with her free hand, knocking down a vase of flowers to shatter on the floor.

He towered over her, still grasping her wrist like a vice. In that moment, she imagined her future with him. Being used and exploited in his twisted fantasy. She struggled to free herself, but he caught her other wrist, too and pinned her down on the floor.

Pieces of the broken vase cut into her back as he pressed her down and knelt over her, holding her arms above her head. She fought against him, but he was too strong, holding her wrists now with only one hand, he still overpowered her.

With his free hand, he turned her head to face him and forcefully kissed her. His fingers dug into her cheeks. She turned back and forth to dislodge his lips and screamed. But there was no one to stop him. There were guards outside, but as far as they were concerned, he had every right to do this to her. No help would come.

Giving up on a kiss, he tore her blouse open and hungerly squeezed her breasts with a lustful growl.

Glass cut deeper into her back and shoulders as he wedged his knee between hers and pressed his erection against her. She squeezed her eyes shut and tears streamed down into her hair. This was happening and there was nothing she could do about it. She jerked in vain to free her hands.

He reached under her skirt to yank at her panties, tearing the flimsy fabric until it broke away and she was fully exposed to him.

She begged the Prophets for strength but none came.

He positioned himself at her opening and shoved inward.

She cried out in pain as delicate tissues tore, rough scales scraped against sensitive places, but he continued to pound his way in a little more with each thrust, indifferent to her cries.

She longed for a way to stop him, to keep him out of her, but she had nothing. She could only lay there and feel his invasion further and further, his skin against hers violating her inner depths.

When his body was pressed fully against hers, he slowed down his pace and abused her with long slow strokes that made her whole body tremble.

She stopped fighting, there was no use now. The glass that she laid on dug small cuts into her back as he had his way with her. His groans of pleasure added to her anguish.

His movements became faster and harder again as he neared his finish and she tried to block it all out but his act of violation filled her every sense. He grunted savagely with his final thrusts until he was spent inside her.

She wanted to push him off of her, out of her as fast as possible, but he remained in place, gulping breaths.

When he finally stood up to put himself back together, she turned onto her side with her knees to her chest. Her arms and shoulders were covered in small, bleeding cuts from the glass and she could feel them on her back too.

Ignoring her sobs, he calmly lifted the outer armor of his uniform off of the chair back and put it on as he left her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite his pretenses, he is definitely capable of such an act. In the episode Covenant he practically admits raping Mika when he apologizes to her right before trying to murder her in a truly horrific way. Yeah, there's no misunderstanding his evilness here.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a little bit nervous about posting this final chapter. That's why it's taken me so long. I even considered several times changing it, but here goes. At the risk of spoilers, I updated the tags to reflect this ending.

The cleaning crew had come to clean up the broken glass and a medic to tend to her cuts, but now she sat alone on the floor in front of the couch.

She was so tired. The fight had taken every bit of her energy and left her exhausted. She shook her head, she gave everything she had and she hadn’t been strong enough. She wished she had spent more time with the members of the Resistance in her home town to learn how to defend herself. But if she had, what else might he have done to her?

Not even wanting to get up to go to bed, she leaned over and curled up on the carpet. It turned her stomach to feel the substance he left behind.

From her place on the floor, something shiny caught her eye. In the corner, against the side of a potted plant. She pushed herself to her knees and crawled over to it. It was a piece of glass the cleaners had missed. A large piece, as long as her finger.

She picked it up carefully and stared at it for a long time. The light bent through the glass in places and reflected off of it in others. And the edge was razor sharp.

Without knowing what she intended to do with it, she carried it back over to the couch and tucked it between the cushions next to Meru’s note. Too exhausted to do anything else, she laid down and let the tears flow.

* * *

She’d fallen asleep there on the floor and spent most of the following day there, too, only managing to get dressed and brush her hair in the late afternoon. She hoped he would have the decency to leave her alone for a few days but was disappointed when the door opened at his usual time.

She remained where she was when he stepped in tentatively, holding out a bundle of flowers like a peace offering. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking his way.

As soon as he’d approached far enough for the door to close behind him, he put on what she was sure he thought was his most sincere expression. “Pahra, I’m so very sorry about what happened.” He said gently, holding the flowers out. “I was out of line.” 

When she didn’t respond, he knelt before her. His scent that she’d barely noticed before, now filled her awareness, bringing with it flashes of the night before.

“It’s just that you’re so beautiful and I’m a weak man.” His voice was smooth as liquid.

She continued to avoid eye contact and he finally sighed and stood to find a vase for the flowers, a metal one that had been brought in to replace the one that had been broken. He set the vase on the coffee table in front of her and knelt before her again. “It’s no excuse, but yesterday had been an especially trying day and I’d hoped to be able to relax with you but instead…” He bit off the accusing turn of his words, “I don’t know what brought on your malaise, but I will do everything I can to make it right.”

He waited there on one knee, expecting her to throw herself into his arms for him to be her hero or some such nonsense.

Inside she was shaking so hard she thought she might vomit but her gaze remained steady and fixed on a point away from him.

“Well.” He said with a finality. “I’ll give you some time, then.” He stood slowly, giving her time to finally respond, but she only continued to stare as she watched him walk away out of the corner of her eye.

The moment the door closed behind him, she let out a long, shaking breath and her shoulders slumped with fatigue. Her eyes finally released the tears she’d been holding back and they streamed down her cheeks.

His apology made his intentions clear, he was not going to dismiss her, he actually expected to make her forgive him.

She could see her future laid out in front of her. He would keep at her, wear her down with his false sincerity. Deny her contact with anyone but himself and his assistant until he wore her down yet again. She was stubborn and in no way naïve, but he was cunning, devious and persistent. She didn’t stand a chance against the master manipulator’s conditioning.

The depth of her imprisonment hit her like a physical thing, hard enough to take her breath away. A bubble of rage pushed up through her body. She grabbed the vase and threw it against the wall. The vase clanged loudly and water and flowers scattered.

Unsatisfied with the result, she dropped to her knees and sobbed her despair. He had her trapped and she was helpless to do anything.

But something tugged at the edge of her consciousness. The piece of glass. Maybe there was one way out.

She turned to retrieve the glass along with the note from their hiding place.

_“Don’t let him in.”_ She read the note again. There was only one way to do that, one way out. She quickly tucked the note back where she’d found it, maybe it would help the next women to occupy these quarters.

She pressed the sharp edge of the glass to the soft spot on the inside of her wrist. Her heart pounded. Self-preservation screamed at her to stop. _One way out._ She reminded herself as the tears flowed.

_One way out._

Pressing harder, she watched a drop of dark red blood form on the surface of her skin.

* * *

Dukat stalked the corridors of his space station toward Pahra’s quarters. He instructed Basso to leave her alone for a while to give her a chance to ponder his apology. He’d given it with the utmost sincerity, of course. Her refusal to accept it was inexplicable. He did realize and admit that he had broken the delicate trust that had been building between them and that it would take time to rebuild it. But he was determined and even looked forward to doing so. 

Meru had been reasonable from the start. She could see that he only wanted what was best for her people and he proved that to her by providing generously for her family. She’d been a loyal and loving companion. At least he thought she was. Toward the end, it became more and more apparent that she’d only been placating him while she waited for an opportunity to return to her former husband. As soon as he’d realized her betrayal he could no longer stand the sight of her. He didn’t even bother to say good bye after he gave the order to have her sent into Dr Moset’s care.

But Pahra, she was a stubborn one from the start. It had not been easy to break down the walls she put up, and it would be that much harder after the mistake he’d made. But once he did get through to her, he had no doubt she’d be as loyal as a Cardassan woman. Though she was intelligent, she lacked education and refinement, but that would give him the opportunity to mold her and shape her into the ideal Prefect’s companion. Bajoran women were so extraordinarily willful that bending them to his will became all the more gratifying.

He passed the guard posted outside her room for her own safety and let himself inside, expecting to find her sulking somewhere, but he didn’t spot her immediately. It wasn’t until he took a few steps into the room that he realized something was very wrong. On the floor beyond the table he saw the edge of a wide, dark stain in the carpet.

With a feeling of dread beginning to seep into his chest, he continued forward. Then he saw her. Her skin was unbelievably pale and she laid face down on a swath of blood that was soaked into the carpet. “Pahra!” He called, panic stricken as he rushed to her and lifted her up in his arms, but the glassy stare in her eyes told him it was already too late.

He gripped her tight against his chest and searched for what could have happened. Who had done this? The guard outside would have been aware of foul play. But then as he shifted her in his arms, a shard of glass tumbled out of her hand and he saw the wound there on her wrist. He stared at it, trying to wrap his mind around what his eyes told him.

His hold loosened and she slipped from his arms. Cold fury surged through his veins as he rose to his feet with conscious control. He’d given her everything she could possibly want. She was to be treated like a queen aboard his station. And this is how she repaid him?

He slapped the communicator on his arm, “Basso, get in here.”

In the minutes that it took for his sniveling assistant to arrive, he could only stare at her. He’d had such plans for her. He would have taught her about culture, about politics, everything she would need to be his perfect companion.

“Sir, I’m sorry for the delay-” Basso barged in and halted in his tracks when he saw what had happened. “Oh.”

Dukat only seethed silently, unable to find words for this monumental betrayal.

“I’ll take care of it and begin searching for a new companion.”

Dukat spun around and stomped out of the room. Perhaps someone less willful this time.


End file.
